The Abruptness of It All
by GiorgiaKerr
Summary: "The problem is that she really does want him to be happy, and she's spent the last few months going over all the reasons that he - they - couldn't be happy in London. And somewhere deep down she's come to terms with the fact that half the problem of Them is her." - Post series 15


**I**

She can't quite believe it when she hears it. She's not sure why - it's not like she hasn't been expecting it. Even in London, Harry had always been the type to settle down, and since his departure, she's come to realise that that might have been what was wrong with Them all along. Well, part of. It wasn't like Nikki was _afraid_ of commitment, regardless of how many exes had tried to convince her of it. It was that she didn't _want_ it. She might have been willing, she thinks sometimes, to have tried. With Harry. But the possibility of that was gone the minute he decided to leave, and she'd just had to come to terms with that.

And sometime in the past year and a half, she thinks she has.

So when he calls her to tell her he's engaged, she can't really explain her reaction. The little stab of pain and regret takes her by surprise. It's not like reopening a wound, she thinks. It's more like reopening an old scar that you'd had every reason to believe had healed. Or worse, like realising that the scar never truly healed at all, despite sutures and antibiotics and the fact that you changed the dressings with utmost diligence. And that kind of scares her a little bit.

Still, she tries to be supportive, because this is Harry, and because despite the late hour, the phone connection and the distance, he sounds... trepidatious. A little bit confused, and unsure, as though he can't quite believe it himself. She knows why - knows that his tone has everything to do with Them, and nothing really to do with his engagement. He just sort of blurts it out amongst the small talk. _Hey, how are you, yeah, I'm good, fine, actually I'm getting married_.

Just like that.

And maybe it's that, she thinks. The abruptness of it. She vaguely recalls him having mentioned a woman - Carol? Kate? - but she really hadn't paid all that much attention. She wants to ask the appropriate questions, like _when_, and _where_, and, hell, _to whom_.

All she manages is, "That's great, Harry." They can both hear the strain in her voice, but he breathes a small sigh of what might be relief anyway.

"Yeah," he agrees, "Yeah, it is." Said as though her approval means anything to him. And she knows she's being unfair, she really does. She knows that Harry's probably a little bit terrified, knows that he probably had to force himself to call her. What she doesn't know is if that makes her feel better or worse. She hates that awkwardness has crept in where there used to be well-earned trust and easy, comfortable rapport. It makes him feel just that much further away, even after such a long time.

The problem is that she really does want him to be happy, and she's spent the last few months going over all the reasons that he - _they_ - couldn't be happy in London. And somewhere deep down she's come to terms with the fact that half the problem of Them is her. Probably more than half, if she's completely honest. It's their history, their baggage, the fact that after more than eight years neither of them were fully capable of saying what they needed to. They still aren't, apparently, and she's not entirely sure they ever will be.

It's not that she's carrying a torch for him - she never was - it's that their relationship now is so much a bundle of complicated, unexpressed, unexplored, inexplicable loose ends. And Harry's most recent news makes it more obvious than ever that their time is really, truly up. That those loose ends will never be tied, and Nikki Alexander does not like to leave things unfinished.

And she's never let herself pine, not for anyone. This is her one rule to which Harry seems to be no exception. She's dealt with this like she deals with most difficult emotional situations: by telling herself things are okay until they actually are, or at least until she can't lie to herself anymore. And the genius of that is that by that point, everything is so far in the past that being upset for too long would be completely irrational and pointless. By that point, it's too late to change anything.

**II**

To her slight chagrin, Nikki finds that she likes this new woman. _Carolyn_. It's Harry's second trip back to London since he left - eighteen months ago - only this time he's not alone. It's a month since he called about the engagement, and Nikki arrives at Leo's just a little bit later than strictly necessary, claiming pathetically that she had paperwork to finish. Everyone except Carolyn knows she's lying, but Leo only says, "Not a problem; we haven't even opened the wine," and ushers her inside.

Harry rushes off somewhere with Leo, muttering something about wine, and she is left alone with Carolyn. She suspects that they did this on purpose, and she makes a mental note to kick one of them later. After the initial awkwardness, however, they settle into a comfortable, easy conversation. They chat about science at first, about the most recent developments in their respective fields, and they are quickly absorbed. Nikki's love for her old job is quickly reignited, and Carolyn seems keen to know more about the practical and political aspects of pathology. She doesn't offer any information about Harry; Carolyn doesn't ask. She wonders how much Harry's told her, and then, with a little bitterness, how much there actually is to tell.

She's not the stereotypical American, thank God, loud and obnoxious and superficial. She's an academic - a field of anthropological science that Nikki can't remember and doesn't think really exists outside the US, anyway. Harry tells her that Carolyn spent a lot of time in her youth doing fieldwork, all over the world. Nikki is, to her own surprise, impressed. She's down to earth, pretty and clever and pleasant, and she obviously loves Harry. Nikki's seen Harry in love enough times to know that the feeling is mutual.

After about half an hour, when Leo and Harry finally return - where the _hell_ does Leo keep his wine? - Nikki understands why she and Harry are together. She doesn't think she really wanted to understand. Wine is passed around, and Nikki accepts a glass gratefully. The fact that she doesn't dislike Carolyn is surprisingly confusing. This whole situation is confusing.

Harry takes a seat next to Carolyn - his fiancee, she reminds herself - on the sofa, and slings an arm casually over the backrest behind her. Nikki takes a rather large sip of wine. It reminds her, a little, of the easy relationship they used to have. Although she'd never admit it, she feels a tiny thread of jealousy and regret worm its way through her. Not necessarily over what she and Harry don't - didn't and wouldn't - have, but over what they've _lost_. Over the very plain fact that the ease they'd once shared was simply gone.

It bothers her a little bit, seeing them together, a feeling for which she chastises herself constantly. What bothers her more is that throughout this first meeting, Harry keeps throwing Nikki little glances. They move between concern and questioning, seeking approval and trying to make sure she's not freaking out. It's irritating, she thinks, and he really should know better, but in the end, he's right. It annoys her because she _is_ freaking out, and she _does_ approve, and she's confused as fuck, and she knows that he can tell.

**III**

A few years later, they see each other again. They've kept in contact well enough, frequently enough, but they've come to realise that the distance between New York and London is so much more than a flight. It takes another unexpected phone call from Harry, and a few weeks of desperate rearrangement of the Lyell Centre for the distance to feel small enough again. Nikki flies over with Leo to meet Harry's new daughter.

Leo is evidently concerned about her, but she insists that he's being unreasonable. And really, he is. It's been five years since Harry left, and while it hasn't exactly been easy, she's moved on. She hopes. She'd thought so last time, too. And the time before that, but seeing Harry, having him in London again had always made her reevaluate those conclusions. Maybe it will be different this time. It's been two years, and maybe being in New York will make the difference that London never has. She doesn't mention any of this to Leo.

She feels a little pang of excitement, actually, when they finally arrive at the address Harry gave them. Leo throws her a final glance before ringing the bell.

Harry kisses her on the mouth in greeting, a new development, and Nikki is surprised when she finds it comforting. A warm feeling of familiarity and affection. They hold each others' gaze for a minute, and Nikki realises suddenly that Harry looks happy. It's not in his wide grin, or the crease of his eyes; it's in the messy hair, and the new wrinkles around his mouth, the stubble on his chin, the red-rimmed eyes of a new parent.

It's overwhelming, then, the feeling of comfort and of probably-misplaced pride she feels. She realises then that she's happy, too. Happier than she thinks she's been in a very, very long time. They hold eye contact, having, in just a few brief seconds, so many of the conversations they've never had, and she realises with a slight jolt that they no longer need to. The past is, finally, the past. It's gone, over, but more importantly she knows now that they _have_ a future. It's not the one that five years ago either of them would have envisioned or wished for or mourned. But it's there, and Nikki can see the same realisation on Harry's face as she feels her throat tighten with emotion.

Leo clears his throat deliberately, and they break eye contact, Nikki trying to subtly wipe moisture from her eyes as Harry coughs deliberately. He laughs and grabs Leo. "Come here." He tries to kiss him, too, and Leo makes a small noise of begrudging amusement and rolls his eyes, pushing Harry away. For a moment, it's like nothing at all has changed, and it's completely surreal. Nikki can almost picture the three of them at the Lyell Centre, Nikki laughing as Harry torments Leo in one way or another. A wave of nostalgia rushes over her as Leo grumbles something about Harry being _far too old for that kind of crap, and you'll have to at least_ act _like an adult now_.

As if on cue, Carolyn appears at the door holding a small blanketed bundle. Harry glances once more at Nikki before all the attention is turned to the tiny new human that has Harry's eyes. Slightly unexpectedly, Nikki falls quickly in love with her, as does Leo, as will, she suspects, every poor sod who encounters her for the rest of her life. Barely one month old, she thinks, and she's already her father's daughter.

After the baby is asleep, someone brings out a bottle wine. Eventually Carolyn turns in, and Leo excuses himself to attend some kind of get-together with old colleagues in the city, and Nikki and Harry are left alone in the living room, drinking the last of the second bottle of wine. Harry collapses on the sofa next to her, spreadeagled, and sighs tiredly. There's a small smile on his face. She's not sure how it happened, but their hands are clasped together between them on the sofa. They finish the wine in comfortable silence, Harry's thumb running occasional circles over the back of her hand.

"I'm happy for you, Harry," Nikki says finally.

And for the first time since he left, she really means it.


End file.
